Sunday, March 6, 2011

Date

"Momma, I have a question that I'm not gonna ask you 'til we get there." Jack cocks his head, "I can remember it for like a hundred days." He rests his elbow on the passenger window.

I wrestle little black pick-up into gear. "Ok. What is it?"

He raises both eyebrows, dips his head, "I'm not gonna ask you 'til we get to Star-a-bucks."

"Oh."

I tangle with clutch and second gear, wheel us down toward 16th. Sun warms our faces. He makes conversation. Value Village, puzzles, books, and grapes, "I'm gonna use my two five dollars to buy you and Daddy and Janie and Lucy grapes," he says.

I pull around an orange traffic cone. We slow, ease past parked cars, squeeze in next to an old snow bank. We scuffle doors shut. I click-clack in red shoes.

"Wanna hold my hand?" He cradles my fingers.

"You're already a good protector." I say

"Here," he grapples the bistro back door, props it with his shoe. Then he finds my hand again.

Before we sidle up to the pastry case, his cheek in my side, a whisper, "My question. Can we get something for Jane and Lulie?" He tussles through his green coat for wallet with green stripe.

After we pay, he asks for a plastic knife to chop the pumpkin scone in half.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

He smiles, all crumbs, "Yeah."

"What do you like?"

"Being here with you."

We make conversation, pick our favorite part of the parlor, the day, everything, and always he says, "You, Momma." You, Momma. Everything, you. And crumbs, crumbs everywhere.

He saws a last rectangle of scone into crumbled chunks, plops them in brown tissue bag. He folds the top over. "There."

He walks me through back bistro door, over black parking lot to black truck. We hold hands.

Gratitude:

653. Little boy who holds my hand.

654. How he watches for cars, and struggles doors open and never watches for people to notice.

655. How he reminds me to forget myself and see instead of be seen.

656. Teal wool sweater and red shoes.

657. Orange backpack.

658. Sisterly advice from brother's wife and brother's wife's sister.

659. Jane's surprise when I say, "You're one of my favorite people to be with," and how she says it back again and again and I poke her in the ribs and she pokes me back.

660. Another bunk bed.

661. And how Craig muscles the whole big box home, just him and physics. And how he unpacks, repacks, and heaves bunk bed bones back to store when I declare, "It doesn't match."

662. How he buys a new one and assembles Lulie's dream come true.

663. A feast of beans and bacon and potatoes, carrots, brownies and caramel, and family. Family. And how before we know it, we stay way too late.

664. The wild raucous of cousins. "I like playing with my cousins so we can be better friends," Janie says.

665. A family date to a deli. Tuna and pickles, chips. And cookies. Cookies the size of a man's hand.

666. Dime-sized crumbles the children break off and pass me, "We're doubling you up, Momma. We're doubling you up with cookies," they say. Jack passes the most.

667. Coffee and a mostly clean house with sis-in-law. How she doesn't notice the crumbs and tells Lulu, "Rockie's lucky to have a cousin like you."

668. Body casts for babies. And how it means no surgery, we hope. And how Jesse and Libby just trust God, and trust God, and trust God.

Jack is the most intentional boy I've seen about being a man. Many male children imitate using tools and lawnmowers like their fathers but Jack does the manners and protection aspect. He has the attitude right not just the actions. Sah-weet!

but today, i'm sighing heavy over that date you were on ... over these boys that grow into men while we sleep. how you are making him into some other Rose Emily's (or maybe that's too many Roses?) dream, the way you lavish your love on him...

Oh my! could be possibly be cuter?! I hope not, for your sake! He MUST be five...? that's where mine is right now and every single part could have been us. ;) Adorable. Blessings to you and your sweet little protector.

About Me

Us plus seven now. Family of nine.
Momma always said, "Make your own fun." I guess this is what she meant.
Join in the banter! Please leave a thought if you've stopped by. You all add richness to this journey.
Cheers! ~Bethany ~
JaneJackLulieRose@gmail.com

Our Vision

We are an outpost of the Kingdom of God. We want to build a loving, warn, stable family into which the world may come when invited, on our terms, so that our children may learn to recognize evil and minister to hurting people of this world with compassion, and become equipped to answer the enemies of God in the gate of the city when they become adults.